


Day 22: Promise

by ANE925



Series: 30 Days Tumblr Prompt Challenge [22]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Dark, Dark Derek, Dark Stiles, M/M, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 03:26:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3234512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANE925/pseuds/ANE925
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some promises just can’t be kept and he has gone too long without the misery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 22: Promise

“I think we should break up,” Stiles said calmly one evening.

 

“What?” Derek asked, thrown from the out of the blue statement.

 

“Look, you’re changing. Going for this whole new image. Which is fine, good for you. But it’s not working for us, for me. So I think we should split. No harm, no foul. I’ll stay out of your way and you’ll never have to decide whether to turn me in or not,” Stiles explained.

 

“No,” Derek said before going back to his reading. Stiles gapped for a moment before he snapped his jaw shut and gritted his teeth.

 

“No? What do you mean 'no' Derek? Do you really thin….”

 

“I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work.  I’m not giving up on us, on you. We’ll keeping working on trying to fix it. To make it all better. Ok?” Derek gently asked and, oh, if that didn’t just set Stiles on edge.

 

“Fine,” Stiles snapped out before turning to storm upstairs and getting stopped by Derek.

 

“Fine what, Stiles?” Derek asked, voice hardened and cold in warning and that, that was the Derek that Stiles stuck around for. The one that still peeked out every once in a while from this new good, happy, polite, gentle Derek.

 

“I promise I’ll try,” Stiles replied in a sickly insincere voice.

 

“Hum,” Derek replied, turning back to his reading, but not before cutting a glare at Stiles that promised a ruthless punishment if he didn’t. Stiles felt shivers run up and down his spine.

 

He walked up to their bedroom with a bigger grin on his face then he had felt for months.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“Fucking damn it all,” Stiles cursed as he managed to cut his finger slicing apples. Carelessly tossing the knife aside, Stiles stuck his finger under the faucet of the sink and turned the water on cold.

 

It had been over a year now since that night he tried to end it and Derek very nicely told him no. Derek did manage to get hired as an upstanding police officer, so they had moved and now Stiles was making freaking apple pies for the neighbors as a “Hi, we’re new to the neighborhood thank you for having us,” or something equally puke worthy since that is apparently custom in middle class suburbia.

 

Bleeding stopped, Stiles shut off the water and leaned back against the counter to gently dry his hand. That’s when he saw it.

 

The knife he had tossed had ended up on the floor, but what really caught Stiles’ attention was the vibrant red gleaming in the light. True, it wasn’t a lot, it had been a small cut, but there was enough. Enough to bring back memories, to reawake the desires he had ignored for so, so long.      

 

Stiles knows he promised Derek. Promised to try. Promised to be good. Promised to leave it all behind. But, oh God, did he miss the glorious misery of it all.

 

“Fuck it,” Stiles gleefully whispered as he bent down and got a solid grip on the handle. He sent Derek a text not to wait up, he was going out.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“Have a good time did we?” Derek called as soon as Stiles crept through the front door.

 

“I certainly did,” Stiles replied, emphasizing the ‘I’ with a grin.

 

“You not on call tonight?” Stiles questioned as he took off his coat and made his way into the living room where Derek was currently lounging on the couch in sweats and nothing else.

 

“No, though I get the feeling I might be pulling some double shifts soon,” Derek said as he got up and slowly made his way toward Stiles.

 

“For some reason, I get the feeling you might be right,” Stiles agreed as he slowly backed up until he hit the wall. Derek saw his window of opportunity and took it. Pinning Stiles to the wall, Derek pulled both of his hands above his head and held them there with his right hand as his left hand came up to Stiles throat, fingers gripping so he couldn’t move and thumb forcing Stiles to look up and bare his throat.

 

“I thought you promised,” Derek growled evenly, which, before Derek Stiles wouldn’t have thought possible.

 

“I promised to try Der, and I did try for a whole year,”Stiles hissed and glared right back, meeting Derek’s eye, head on. Eyes that seemed to suddenly be blown mostly black.

 

“You fucker,” Derek...purred? That, that was definitely a pur of a rumble that Derek was making as he lowered his head to... Shit, to bite Stiles neck.

“Fuck, Der, yes,” Stiles hissed out, though for a very differently reason this time.

 

“You’re still getting punished,” Derek rumbled out against his neck, even as he continued to bite his way up it.

 

“Well then, husband dearest of mine, shall we take this to the bedroom?” Stiles asked with a leer. He let out a shuddering breath when Derek returned it with a look and grin that screamed pure predator.

 

“Run,” Derek whispered against his ear before letting him go. Stiles didn’t need to be told twice.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Stiles was bored. So. Very. Bored.

 

With Derek working full time now, he had no one to play with him. He missed the old days. The days they would hunt together. Tracking their prey, teasing it, working it into a crazed frenzy.

 

It had been glorious.

 

But now, now, Stiles was stuck doing it all by himself. And, while Stiles was still very good at it, the last bastard had been in tears even before Stiles pulled out the knives. He wasn’t as good as Derek.

 

Derek had had a natural ability to scare the last hope out of a person. To make their very soul freeze in terror and then pull the sweetest scream from them. Plus, Stiles got impatient. He grew bored and tired of how predictable they all were.   

 

But Derek, oh Derek had known how to drag it out for hours. How to spice it up just enough that they would never go fully numb. Always feeling, begging, screaming. All the while Derek would, oh, so calmly be talking to Stiles. Explaining how best to drive a knife in to do the least amount of damage, but pull out the most pain. Showing Stiles whish organs were vital and which weren’t, which veins could be cut and which to avoid if you didn’t want a quick death.

 

Derek had been a master that Stiles could watch forever.

 

That was, before he decided out of the blue that he was done. Before he pulled a complete one eighty. Before he told Stiles they had to stop, that he wanted to become a police officer of all things. Stiles had thought it had been a joke at first, maybe a phase at worst. But no, Derek had been serious.

 

One day Stiles had come back to a boxed up apartment and told to enjoy tonight because it would be the last before they started their new lives. No real explanation, and suddenly Stiles was by himself  and, while he could still pull a few nice screams out, he just didn’t have the same flair.

 

‘Though it was never too late to try and learn,’ Stiles mused as some low down thug slowly came toward him, obviously looking to start something.

 

It was perfect really, Stiles was just thinking about how much this back alley needed some red accenting.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“Police officials announce, after five gruesome murders in two weeks,  that the serial killers, The Duo, are back…” the reporter droned during the news, Stiles snorted.

 

“Something funny?” Derek asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

“The Duo? Really? I complained about it when they first dubbed these guys that name and I stand by my complaint. Who’s going to be scared of, or take seriously, a killer group called ‘The Duo’ I mean really,” Stiles snapped with an eyeroll. It really was the dumbest name to call a couple of killers.

 

“Well, since the two don’t leave really anything behind, what are they supposed to call them? We don’t even know their gender. For all we know, this could be a different killer.” Derek replied.

 

“Hummm,” Stiles agreed, already bored with the conversation. It had been two weeks since they last went to bed together thanks to these murders and, since Derek finally had a night off, Stiles had big plans.

 

“You don’t think so?” Derek pressed on. Anyone else would think that he was genuinely curious about Stiles’ answer, but Stiles knew better. He could see the amusement dancing in Derek’s eyes. Derek knew the real answer, but, for whatever reason, wanted to make Stiles work for his plans.

 

“No,” Stiles deadpanned, refusing to play into Derek’s game. Derek smirked.

 

“Not in a playing mood, love?” Derek drawled, chuckling at the look Stiles shoot him. Stiles quickly changed tactics.

 

“Oh, I’m in a playing mood. Just, I want to play something a little more physical than your word games,” Stiles purred as he climbed onto Derek lap.

 

“Won’t you play with me?” Stiles whispered against Derek’s lips as he draped his arms over Derek’s shoulders.

 

“You little shit,” Derek ground out before gripping the back of Stiles thighs and standing up. Stiles just grinned and bit at Derek’s jaw as Derek walked them upstairs. He totally won that round.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Stiles was so screwed, so, so screwed. He had fucked up, fucked up badly.

 

Thundering up the stairs, Stiles quickly pulled down his emergency suitcase and started packing. He could he have been this stupid? So careless? After everything, a freakin beanie was going to be his undoing. Now, he had no choice but to leave. To pack his things and run. To leave Derek.

 

That, though, made Stiles pause. Through everything, every up and down life had thrown at him, from his Dad being murdered to Scott’s damning death, Derek had been constant. Derek had stayed to help, Derek had kept him, cared for him, sheltered him, loved him. And now, now because Stiles is apparently an amuetur idiot, he would have to leave Derek, leave his safe harbor.

 

“Damn it,” Stiles growled as he swiped at his face that definitely was not damp. Stiles refused to cry on top of everything.

 

The loud bang of the door being slammed shut jolted Stiles out of his thoughts. He had wasted too much time, Derek was back.

 

“You going somewhere?” Derek asked as he leaned against the door frame of their bedroom, effectively blocking Stiles exit.

 

“Need to visit my ailing grandmother, you know how it is,” Stiles sussed back, not moving an inch.

 

“I see. shame really, I was hoping we could have a night in.” Derek tusked, still not moving.

 

“Really? I thought you were on duty tonight,” Stiles asked, voice full of suspicion and accusation. Stiles wasn’t sure which feeling hurt more.

 

“I was. But there was another murder and I was first to the scene. What I saw was so unsettling that I had to wait outside for back up. Plus the smell was...getting to me. When the chief got there and saw the scene he said I was excused for the night after I gave my statement,” Derek explained.

 

“How kind of him. Now if you would just…” Stiles started to say as he shut the suitcase and started to lock it.

“Just a minute. I didn’t see your beanie in there. You know, the special one that you always wear to important and exciting events,” Derek pointed out, shifting his weight so he was no longer leaning and shoved his hands into his pockets.

 

“I can’t find it. And, since I don’t know how much time she has, I thought it better to not worry about it,” Stiles replied heart hammering.

 

“You should be more careful, Grandma really loves seeing that beanie. I can’t imagine her reaction should she see you without it or vice versa,” Derek said as he pulled his hand out of his pocket and tossed Stiles’ beanie to him.

 

“You brought it back?” Stiles whispered as he looked at the beanie in awe. Derek snorted.

 

“Of course I did. I’d hate to see it end up somewhere it didn’t belong. Now, you were in a hurry,” Derek said as he moved out of the way. Stiles barely noticed. He was too relieved and excited to move. Derek had picked him. Even after everything, after all that had happened recently, after his sudden desire to be a police officer and his dream to be a chief, Derek still chose Stiles.

 

“You know what, it was a false alarm. She just texted saying she’s fine,” Stiles said with a huge grin and clutching the beanie close. He didn’t look away from Derek or at his phone once.

 

“What a relief. So I assume your evening is now free?” Derek asked, finally stepping into their room.

 

“I’m all yours,” Stiles promised quietly. He didn’t let go of that beanie once that night, much to Derek’s amusement.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“Please, please, the police will be here soon. I swear I wont tell them anything, just, please...” the end was cut off by a scream as a knife was driven into his side and left there.

 

“Hum, you’re right, the police should be here any second now. I do wonder what is taking so lo…”

 

“Stiles,” Derek, in his uniform, said as he rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs, gun drawn and level.

 

“Yes, love?” Stiles replied as he twisted the knife with a manic grin, making the man, Fred or somthing, Stiles didn’t remember, all he knew was this guy was a condescending jackass and Stiles was done with him, scream again.

 

“None of that, now, hush. Can’t you see I’m trying to talk to my husband?” Stiles tusked as he held a hand over the man’s mouth to muffle him.

 

“Stiles, where’s the wife?” Derek asked calmly, gun still posed and ready to shoot.   

 

“Depends, which part are you looking for?” Stiles asked sweetly, the reminder making the man struggle and whimper, tears running down his face, mixing with his blood, and making the most interesting streaks. It’s a shame he couldn’t feel it through his neck down body suit. That Hannibal guy had some good ideas.

 

“He’s the only alive then?” Derek questioned, eyes scanning the room, no doubt, loosely tracing what happened.  

 

“Yep.I  didn’t think you wanted to play, what with you going and joining the police force,” Stiles replied, unable to stop the sneer at the end. He was still sore about that. Derek just raised a judgement eyebrow at him.

 

“We were going straight. Leaving this behind. Starting a life, maybe even a family in a few years,” Derek reminded him, slowly getting closer.

 

“We had a life! An awesome one filled with gore,, sex, and adrenaline! Derek, if you wanted a family we could have talked about that. We could have cut back, started making it a special night out. We didn’t need to stop cold turkey! This is who I am Derek, you know that! You know I need this, and if you would stop lying to yourself, you know you need it too. Or, is it really coincidence that our best sex nights happen right after you know I killed someone? Because you knew Derek, you knew and even helped cover my tracks,” Stiles reminded him, because Stiles knew who Derek was under the smiling good samaritan.

 

Derek was a man that scared Stiles to his bone, who sent shivers down his spine and Stiles couldn’t find anything more exciting, couldn’t love anyone but someone more deranged than himself.     

 

“So what now Stiles?” Derek asked, but Stiles saw the hope in his eyes when Stiles mentioned balancing a family and this life. The realization suddenly hit. Derek didn’t want to give this up. Derek missed this just as much as Stiles. The only difference? Derek didn’t think he could have both this and a family.

 

Derek was so wrong and Stiles was never happier. Stiles would show him. After they sorted this out, Stiles would show him that he could have both. It would take some planning, but he could.

 

“Now, you choose Derek,” Stiles said around a swallow as he held his hands up and stepped back.  “You can bring me in, kill me, or help me finish what I started,” Stiles said, looking him directly in the eye, a challenging grin on his lips.

 

“You little fucking shit,” Derek said as he took aim and fired. Stiles just laughed.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Mom! There’s someone at the door!” Sally yelled upstairs.

 

“Coming!” Jane yelled down, silently cursing. Quickly she made herself presentable, honestly people only ever showed up at the worst times, went down stairs, and opened the door.

 

“Hello, can I help you?” Jane asked the unfamiliar man on her door step. He gave her a sheepish grin.

  
“Sorry, I hope this isn’t a bad time. I was just stopping by to introduce myself and give you guys an apple pie. My husband and I just moved in down the street, I’m Stiles,” he introduced himself with a sharp grin. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, someone might have listened to ‘I miss the Misery’ by Halestorm too many times. Hope you guys still enjoyed the story. Thank you for reading if you got this far! 
> 
> Just a general announcement. This is NOT a healthy relationship. Both Stiles and Derek have some serious problems. Also, I might already have ideas for a sort of prequel back story if anyone is interested XP
> 
> As always, praise and glory goes to my wonderful beta who puts up with so much, so so much.  
> 


End file.
